


I Think I'm Gonna Make It Worse

by nofaceghoul



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, brief misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofaceghoul/pseuds/nofaceghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Urie knew who he was. He had a pretty good idea in his head of who everyone else was too, and his expectations of them after he’d organized them neatly into his little mental cataloging system. </p>
<p>the development of Urie and Mutsuki's relationship from the auction arc to the Exterminate Tsukiyama Operation arc</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making It

Urie knew who he was. He had a pretty good idea in his head of who everyone else was too, and his expectations of them after he’d organized them neatly into his little mental cataloging system. Nothing deviated, Urie never strayed from his goal of getting revenge for his father. That’s why he was here, in the CCG. That’s why, ultimately, he ended up at the auction raid. Just another opportunity for recognition, just another rung in the ladder.  


Something went wrong. It was the frame surgery, had to have been, he concluded later. Too much, there was too much of himself and he was so _strong_ and _fast_ and he felt so goddamn _good_ there was a part of him that was a little scared, a little overwhelmed. That damned Mutsuki (weak, a hypocrite, quick to follow orders but not an idiot, unlikely to be manipulated) was there. He saw him lose control, and that was unacceptable. But Urie learned something too then, senses heightened like live wires zapping while his RC cells (too high too too high) were rushing through his body.  


“A woman…?” He’d mumbled, half out of his mind and exhausted. But that smell was undeniable. The second the words came out of his mouth, Mutsuki’s expression changed, an almost unnoticeable shift. He looked tired, a different kind than he had been before. Urie felt some sense that he’d done something wrong.  


It wasn’t long after the auction that it began. Urie didn’t know how it had affected the others. He didn’t care, he told himself. Shirazu (stupid, loyal to a fault, easy to manipulate) was starting to look more than haggard in the mornings, suggesting he may be having the same issues Urie was. Nightmares. It was always the same, always that scene with that grotesque ghoul and being in that gaping, disgustingly hot mouth. The despair he felt in that moment was indescribable, a crushing failure. He’d never even made it past a measly Rank One, never gotten to avenge his father. He was a failure, a fuck up, too eager too quick to rush in and get credit. How goddamn pathetic. And then he broke that wall, hit the true power of Frame Four and the euphoria of losing control was such a skyrocketing, orgasmic difference from what he felt as he was coming to terms with his inevitable death. It felt so good losing himself to it.  


In the aftermath, even that was scary. Urie didn’t lose control. He was always in control, but what was somehow worse than losing it in the first place was that Mutsuki saw. Urie could hardly look at him these days because of it. Mutsuki seemed uncomfortable around him, but it didn’t appear to be affecting his work. It made Urie feel irritated, made him want to grind his teeth. How could he just pretend like nothing happened when something had? How could he just…go on? Though it was true Mutsuki avoided Urie if he could, and the former squad leader had an idea he knew why.  


“I need to talk to you.” That sounded too urgent, didn’t it? Ugh, whatever. He grabbed Mutsuki’s arm, pulling him away from spectating on a round of Mario Kart that Shirazu and Saiko (lazy, unmotivated, kagune strength not worth the burden on the team) were playing. Mutsuki looked confused and maybe even a little concerned, but he followed Urie without a query.  


“What is it?” He asked after a moment’s hesitation once Urie had taken them to the large pantry of the Chateau’s kitchen.  


They were alone for now, and this was a good private place to talk. Or it would be, if Urie could find the words. God, he’d had this all planned out too and now Mutsuki was here and suddenly everything was difficult. Urie was good at speaking. He was always quick with a retort or a lie when he had to be, but this, this was. Hard. “I,” He chewed on his cheek, shifting a little. Took a moment to collect himself. Why was apologizing so difficult? Why did he feel the need to?  


“…You…?” Mutsuki looked confused and a little concerned. Urie hated it, wanted Mutsuki to stop it with his worrying. He’d been like that ever since the fucking auction, giving Urie those concerned looks.  


Urie swallowed, tried again. “I didn’t mean what I said, at the auction.” Mutsuki’s expression closed off at the mention of the raid, but Urie continued. If he didn’t now he never would. “When I, I’m aware I may have said something awful. I don’t know exactly what your situation is, but—“  


“I’m a boy,” Mutsuki interrupted. He was looking Urie in the eye, a strength to his voice that the investigator didn’t think he’d ever heard in the other’s tone before. There was a bit of apprehension in his eyes though, the smallest bit of fear. He was scared of Urie’s reaction, but he was standing his ground. Strange.  


“…Okay,” Urie gave a quiet nod to that, “you’re a boy.”  


The fear left Mutsuki’s eyes, replaced with a small relief. “Yeah.” He shifted a bit, glancing back at the door, maybe to see if anyone was coming, maybe as a subtle queue that he was done with this conversation. “Was that it, or…?”  


“I didn’t tell anyone.”  


Mutsuki looked back at Urie then and gave him a little smile. “I didn’t tell anyone either.” Urie didn’t think Mutsuki was talking about his gender identity.  


It didn’t start long after that. Urie hadn’t been sleeping well since the auction, and it was starting to affect him and his training, his work. If he didn’t get a decent night’s sleep soon, he didn’t know what he would do. It had to have been the sleep deprivation that made him think it was okay to get up, to pad down the hallway and slip into Mutsuki’s room, closing the door behind him near soundlessly and crawling into bed with the other.  


Urie wasn’t going to do anything. He wasn’t after anything but a good night’s rest, and this was the last thing his sleep deprived brain could think would be a good idea. Mutsuki was stiff beside him, and Urie vaguely registered that he must have been awake this entire time. He wasn’t sleeping well either, Urie noted. It wasn’t as though his light had been on to give away that he was still up, or else Urie most likely wouldn’t have come in here, but still. Shit…  


Thankfully, Mutsuki didn’t speak. Either out of fear and confusion or out of understanding for Urie’s situation, (he didn’t care) he remained silent. Urie was grateful for that. Just as he started slipping off to sleep, he felt what may have been a soft caress to his hair.  


Urie woke up that morning feeling more rested than he had in months. So the trend continued; after everyone had retired for the night, Urie would sneak into Mutsuki’s room to sleep in his bed. The rest of the house rarely bothered to go and get Urie from his room for any reason, so he wasn’t worried about this, whatever it was they were doing, being discovered.  


Mutsuki never told Urie to leave. The few nights he ever tried to ask Urie why, at the very least, the stoic investigator would get up without a sound and go. Those were restless nights. Mutsuki learned not to ask, but Urie figured the green haired investigator already knew why he came into his room to sleep at night. Mutsuki always was too observant for his own good, though Urie didn’t think it was all observation with this instance. Mutsuki had been having nightmares too.  


It became a routine, the two completely comfortable with each other laying so close after sleeping in the same bed for awhile. It was the third week in when Urie slowly slid his hand across the bed, crossing the small distance between them in order to hold onto the back of Mutsuki’s shirt. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes in the darkness.  


Mutsuki was quiet for awhile before finally, hesitantly murmuring, “…Urie…?”  


And that was it. The spell snapped, and like a frightened deer Urie pulled his hand back before getting up to soundlessly leave the room.  


Mutsuki didn’t ask again the next night when Urie repeated the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love mutsurie, but i've always felt that what Urie said during the auction raid had to be addressed in some way, for Mutsuki's sake, for there to ever be a relationship between them. you don't just date the guy who misgenders you even if it's on accident, y'know?
> 
> BUT ANYWAY this should be done soon and then i'll get back to that arisasa/arineki hellscape i'm writing.


	2. Worse

The routine followed the same, uninterrupted, for a long while after that. It was another late night, Mutsuki awake with his head against Urie’s chest, listening to the other’s heartbeat. He was trying to remain tethered to that, focus on that and not Shirazu’s death or Sasaki leaving them. The Chateau felt cold now, empty, and Urie and Mutsuki clung to each other in that aftermath like they had nothing else. And they really didn’t, did they? Besides Saiko, but she had holed up in her room the past few days. Urie wasn’t even sure if she’d go to Shirazu’s funeral later in the week. He wasn’t sure if he’d go either honestly, but he has a feeling that Mutsuki will make him.

They’d slowly gotten closer since they’d started sleeping in the same bed, all those months ago it seemed, when things were somehow so much simpler. Individually, lines were blurred and a little confusing. The Exterminate Tsukiyama Operation had thrown everything into an even more confusing, blurry turmoil.

“Are you awake?” Mutsuki murmured into the darkness. Urie knew it was just a formality.

He’d been falling in and out of sleep, restless and grieving and irritated. When aren’t you irritated, Uriko, Shirazu would have jeered, and just that thought made Urie feel a little sick. There was no Shirazu now to taunt him playfully. Urie had hated it before, had even made light of Shirazu’s death in the past. Was it worth it? His own thoughts are the only things left to taunt him now. He’s dead now so you should be happy, right? Urie’s thoughts were wandering into dark territory and he stopped them before they could continue. “Unfortunately,” he muttered in reply to Mutsuki’s question.

Mutsuki made a little noise of acknowledgement before he continued. “This may seem selfish, especially now, but. Do you enjoy my company?”

It was odd for Mutsuki to ask a question so straightforward in regards to himself, Urie noted. He frowned. “What kind of question is that?” His sentence was a little grating, replying with yet another question in order to deflect. He could tell he wasn’t going to like this conversation. Mutsuki gave a noncommittal hum before moving to hide his face in the other’s neck. The behavior wasn’t entirely strange, though coupled with the previous question it was a little curious. Being so close was still a pretty new thing for them. “…What are you thinking about?” Urie moved to wrap his arm around the one laying half on top of him. It’s an idle gesture, a movement of comfort not only for Mutsuki but for himself.

Mutsuki was quiet again. He fidgeted a little. “A lot of things. You,” he said cryptically.

Urie frowned at the response. Vague. He hated when things were vague, though he himself was often vague or withholding information in many of his day to day interactions with people. He understood that there were many things in life that he hated, traits that he himself exhibited, but that was just his hypocritical nature that he was well aware of coming through. It was no secret, to Urie at least, that he hated himself. But that was fine, he'd keep his pathetic body running long enough to get the revenge he felt he needed and deserved. And maybe in the meantime, he'd keep it going for Mutsuki as well. For this broken wreck of a squad without a heart. "Me. What about me?" it seemed as though he was going to have to pry tonight.

Mutsuki huffed out a frustrated little sound, an uncomfortable sound. “This is, well. We never really talk about what this is, do we?”

“This?” Urie feigned ignorance.

Mutsuki sat up, narrowing his eyes at the other in the darkness. “Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean.” Urie did know. “I just feel like, I don’t know. I think I like you, Urie. And after…everything, I’ve done some thinking. I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore, not when we live life where each day is so uncertain. And…I sometimes wonder whether you like me or if you’re just using me.” Mutsuki had started strong, but toward the end his insecurity bled through.

Urie was quiet for a bit after Mutsuki said that, digesting what the other had said. It was true that they had never named whatever it was between them, it had kind of just happened after the auction. They were just two broken people finding comfort in one another. Was Mutsuki his boyfriend? Urie frowned at the thought. The word seemed wrong, not right for how he felt about the boy beside him. Though he did resent the idea that he was using Mutsuki, because though he had used people in the past to push himself closer to his goals, he would never use someone for reasons like this.

"You must not think very highly of me, to think that I’m using you." He tried not to sound offended or hurt because that would mean that he cares. "This, this is a distraction from what I want. I wouldn't actively be seeking this out just to use you, that's more trouble than it's worth." 

He was pretty sure that came out wrong. Almost positive, but he didn’t know any other way to phrase it. Mutsuki was sitting up, moving away. Urie couldn’t see his face clearly but he was almost positive Mutsuki was closing off. “Shit. I knew that was phrased wrong. Look, I just.” He’d been vague and now it was biting him in the ass. This was why Urie hated vagueness. “It is a distraction, okay? This, these feelings. It’s not a position I actively sought out. Do you get it? I didn’t mean…ugh. Do you get it?”

Don’t make me have to spell it out, he thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. How could they even be having this conversation, after Shirazu? The hole in Urie’s chest was still raw. This all seemed so silly and juvenile in comparison.

“I just like you a lot. I like you more than I want to admit to myself.” Quietly spoken by the other. His form was hunched, turned away from Urie. Urie didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Getting involved with someone he worked with was not something the blank-faced investigator had ever planned on. He was distant and cold and sometimes even rude when he thought he could get away with it, and this went against everything he’d promised himself when he had first joined the CCG academy. What he was hearing out of Mutsuki’s mouth right now sounded an awful lot like a confession and it made Urie’s head feel like static snow from a broken TV.

What was this? How would he respond? Was Mutsuki his boyfriend? Urie was quiet for a bit before he swallowed. “…I don’t..dislike any of that.” Now that was roundabout and certainly deflecting, wasn’t it? Quit acting like a child, Urie jabbed at himself. “What I mean to say is I’m not. Adverse to your feelings.”

Well that was shit but at least it was better.

Mutsuki finally turned back to face him then, and he seemed to be observing him in the darkness. Urie didn’t like it. He didn’t like being looked at, especially by someone like Mutsuki who made him feel so goddamned transparent.

“Urie.” He breathed. “I’m sorry.” And then he was kissing him.

It wasn’t anything more than a firm press of lips together before Mutsuki was pulling back, but only just. He mumbled another apology, lips brushing Urie’s when his mouth formed the words.

Urie had short-circuited for a moment, was unmoving while he processed he’s kissing me he just kissed me and then he surged forward, pulling Mutsuki closer to return the kiss. This he could do, though he was loathe to be cut down to something so base. In normal circumstances Urie could be quite eloquent, and the fact that trying to talk to Mutsuki like a normal human being was so hard frustrated him more than anything. The fact that he was reduced to having to use his body and actions to push through his thoughts was something Urie was unfamiliar with, but not entirely unpleasant in this context at all.

Mutsuki gasped against his mouth but was soon holding him just as close, like he was afraid Urie was going to disappear if he so much as loosened the grip he had on his shirt. Urie in turn gripped the tan skin of Mutsuki’s hip with his long bony fingers and Mutsuki let out another little noise against his lips, a sound that had the blood rushing in Urie’s head and starting to pool south. Mutsuki was soon pressing urgent little kisses to Urie’s lips, and as they slowed into something less heated it’s more languid and slow and Urie could handle this speed too. He returned all the little pecks that Mutsuki gave him. It was nice, very domestic, and it simultaneously thrilled and disgusted the Quinx investigator. The constant duality of his thoughts was irritating.

Mutsuki finally loosened his grip on the back of Urie’s shirt and moved a slightly shaky hand to rest on the one the other had resting at his hip. “I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly. “It’s a little much, right now I…”

“Ah. Right.” Urie immediately understood, removing his hand. They’d gotten too caught up in the moment. “It’s fine.” It really was, but Urie got the feeling his usual deadpan tone didn’t convey himself properly.

It’s quiet for a beat after that, both of them focused more on their quickly beating hearts steadily slowing back to a normal rate. Urie knew if it wasn’t so dark he’d be able to see the flush on Mutsuki’s cheeks, but he could only imagine his own face was betraying him in an embarrassing way as well.

He wanted to say something. He didn’t know what, didn’t have the slightest inkling of what would be right to say here, and he was too afraid of ruining…whatever moment this was. Something had changed though. A lot had changed, with Shirazu dead and Sasaki abandoning the Quinx squad, but something subtle had shifted in Mutsuki and Urie’s dynamic as well, right here in this quiet corner of a large and terrifying world.

So much had changed. Urie wasn’t sure what to categorize anything anymore. Shirazu (loyal to the end, cared too damn much, had more heart than any of us), Sasaki (cold callous abandoned us left us LEAVE NEVER COME BACK), Saiko (odd but means well, needs to be pushed but is a valuable, irreplaceable member of the team), and Mutsuki. Stronger than he was ever given credit for. Reserved and observant, two traits that along with his habit of worrying tend to have people peg him as being shy, though he isn’t. Doesn’t like drawing attention to himself, for fear of appearing selfish. Makes addictive sounds when he’s being kissed just right.

His mental cataloguing system was all sorts of fucked up now. But right when everything was falling apart, as Urie laid back down with Mutsuki curling up against his chest, he thought maybe the coming days would be bearable now with someone to help shoulder this weight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i probably copped out at the end there a bit but it's nearly four in the morning and i'm running on fumes, couldn't decide how it was best to end this but i already had everything else written. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
> 
> bug me on my twitter @centipedekagune or my tumblr no-faceghoul


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